The Reunion
by howaboutheadingsouth
Summary: What happens before the war between Jonathon and the Clave? As weapons and strategies are being propounded, emotions are running high, romantic memories are revealed and it might just be possible for couples to reunite or strengthen their love. (Set in the Mortal Intruments series after City of Lost Souls. Featuring Alec and Magnus, Jace and Clary and Simon and Izzy)


**Isabelle**

Isabelle rapped the door impatiently, tapping her stiletto. The door flew open.

"Yes?" demanded Magnus peevishly. Isabelle, with her expertise at makeup spotted several flaws immediately. His slanted eyes were eclipsed with consuming hollowness and his cheekbones were more pronounced, making him look overall more gaunt and elderly. She knew Alec and Magnus were having a break; Alec had muttered it yesterday, the height of his recent communication.

"Why?" she had asked curiously.

"None of your business," he had replied brusquely and left without a word.

It's not like she could proffer all her attention as much as she would have liked to. Every day as she donned her shadowhunter gear she found herself wondering 'will Simon like this?' Then she'd swivel to the right to examine her face from another angle and a lock of raven hair would shift onto her visage. Without exception the same thought would occur; would Simon prefer me with red hair? After all, he was in love with copper-topped Clary for all that time…

Even thinking about it pressed a frown on her forehead. She wasn't some stupid schoolgirl with a crush. She was Isabelle Lightwood, prestigious shadowhunter and notorious crusher of hearts.

"If you're going to loiter there I'd much prefer it if you handed out my business cards whilst doing so"

Isabelle resurfaced abruptly. Magnus was standing there, his arms crossed, looking at lot like he did at the night of the party. She raised her eyebrows and he grudgingly moved aside. His apartment had undergone a pronouncedchange since she had last been here. Not in a drastic, redecorated way but it had gotten more messy. Instead of the occasional pizza box opened picturesquely there were crumpled cartons squahed into unlikely places. Isabelle, as an amateur decorator (and quite the prodigy at it in her opinion) spotted this.

"So what do you little herd of nephilim want now?"

Isabelle looked up sharply "Jonathon is predicted to be releasing his first batch of corrupted Shadowhunters in only two days"

Magnus merely looked bored "And why exactly is that of any interest to me?"

Isabelle was surprised "Don't you have some shadowhunter connections?"

"On the contrary" said Magnus "I have no concerns in the shadowhunter community whatsoever. You little angels can go around slaughtering or getting slaughtered for all I care"

Chairman Meow slunk around them, aiming sour glances at Magnus and Isabelle, who was now bristling.

"But, but-" she expostulated.

"But what?" countered Magnus smoothly "Even in the event that I needed some money, I hear the Clave is bankrupt. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a Zumba lesson"

Isabelle would have found herself in the unfortunate position of having to punch Magnus or at least muss up his hair when she was saved by the sound of the speaker.

"Iz? It's me, Alec" said Alec, his voice crackling through the grille "Listen, there's a mandatory clave meeting. Are you coming with me?"

"Of course!" she chirped and turned around to deliver one last venomous glare to Magnus but to her surprise he was sitting on an armchair, his hands trembling slightly. Could it be, gaged from his reaction to Magnus' voice, that Alec and Magnus were officially broken up? This was worrying.

As she headed quietly to the door, Magnus focused back onto her "Could you take out the trash as you leave?"

Maybe it wasn't so worrying.

Isabelle, with a groan, lifted the trash bag and heaved it down the stairs. An endurance test, she thought grimly. An endurance test… an endurance test…

Jace would have probably thought it was hilarious and reminded her of it next time he caught her with a boyfriend. As for Simon he'd probably use it as inspiration for his band and after a few arguments with his bandmates give her a leaflet for Stairway Trash's next gig. Isabelle inwardly cursed-thinking about Simon was a pointless pursuit- and her glossed fingernails bit into the thin plastic of the bag. The garbage tumbled out and spilled down the stairs. _Aaargh!_ This was rapiply becoming Isabelle's nightmare day. Stooping over, she tentatively scooped the trash into its bag. A few bottles drew her attention; they were all sandalwood products. Isabelle knew vaguely that Magnus adored sandalwood. So why was he throwing it all away?

Finally she stumbled out the door of the apartments only to find Alec staring reprovingly at her. "Why are you so late?" He coughed "Also, did you get the supplies?"

"No" snapped Isabelle, shoving the bag onto the sidewalk behind her, supressing a shudder as she did so.

Subsequent to the clave meeting Isabelle, Alec, Jace, Clary and Simon stood awkwardly outside the large doors of the institute. Clary shattered the stillness by grabbing Jace's sleeve. "Let's go swimming again"

"Any excuse to look at my abs" complained Jace good humouredly and allowed himself to be led down the hallway,

"Swimming? At the Mundie centre? Won't your Marks show?" Alec asked concernedly. His protective streak was ever-prevalent, thought Isabelle. Clary looked at Alec and smiled.

"It's fine. They all think we're in some kind of cult"

"How reassuring" muttered Simon. Jace sniffed

"Have you ever been in anything as close to the concept of cool as a cult?" he enquired pointedly.

"Shut up, Jace" said Alec automatically.

"Do you think we could go with them?" asked Isabelle to Alec, who shrugged in response "S'pose"

"Great!" Isabelle promptly linked arms with Clary and Alec. "Are you coming, Simon?" she queried in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone

"I guess" he replied, equally nonchantly.

**Simon **

Jace, Simon and Alec changed quickly.

"Why are you going swimming regularly?" Simon asked Jace. He gulped "If it's not some weird sex thing, of course"

"It's to pass the official test I'm being set"

Simon couldn't think of anything else to say so he started to scour the leisure timetable.

"Coming, daylighter?" Jace questioned as Simon was still raptly reading.

"The last time I came to a leisure centre it was with Becky and Mum long time ago" said Simon distantly, obdurately perusing the scrap of paper.

Jace scrutinised Simon's profile briefly "It shows"

Simon was feeling majorly discomfited. Trust Jace to pick up on his slightly poor physique which would never change. Lately, the meaning of infinity had been unfolding in more ways than one. Like when he was kicked out of a pub last week whilst Clary, Alec, Isabelle and Jace looked on pityingly (perhaps Jace a little less pityingly). Sixteen forever, with the body which he frequently wished he had built to be more impressive, the slowly unpeeling family and waning spontaneity of life in general.

Inelegantly, they walked down the hallway fo the leisure centre where classes were being held.

"They didn't have this walkway last time I came here" Jace said, frowning.

"Are you saying that they developed this route so that the receptionists can ogle your abs?" asked Alec playfully. It had been a while, Simon mused, since he had seen Alec so flippant. In the past few weeks Alec had regressed to the sullen, humourless boy Simon had known him originally as. Although he did have a point: the receptionists were practically slavering at the sight of Jace's chest.

Suddenly Alec stopped. The colour drained from his face. He was looking through the glass panel into a room where miscellaneous women and Magnus were prancing manically to Latin music.

"And to think" said Jace "I thought you had to go to Africa to see intoxicated giraffes"

Simon checked the room number "Room 103. That means that's zumba"

Together, he and Jace bodily dragged Alec to the poolside.

"It smells suspicious" Alec croaked abruptly.

"It's called chlorine" said Simon.

"Still suspicious to shadowhunters" said Jace bracingly and performed a spectacular bellyflop into the water.

Simon facepalmed.

Slowly he and Alec gingerly descended before clumsily wading to Jace who was being coached by Clary. Isabelle was watching interestedly. She looked stunning in her blue bikini with her hair tied back, thought Simon ruefully. But then she always did.

Clary's voice punctured his ruminating. "If you don't at least try to get this then you'll drown and have to get mouth-to-mouth from the lifeguard" she admonished. Jace glanced at the lifeguard and shuddered "No thanks"

"I wouldn't mind"

"Me neither"

Clary and Isabelle were giggling.

"Right, that's it" said Jace and thus launched himself headlong off the side. Splashily, he torpedoed to the other side of the pool- whatever avian abilities he had aqua talent obviously wasn't part of the package. With Simon's improved hearing he heard one of the bikini clad girls from the other side of the pool say disgustedly "I can't believe I ever thought he was hot"

Now Jace was catapulting back. Quickly, they retreated out of his trajectory. Jace water-braked just dead of them.

"Well, how did I do?"

"You're improving" said Clary optimistically.

"I don't think you'd drown in a crisis" Alec said doubtfully.

Simon awaited Isabelle's verdict . However, she was laughing at something the 'cute' lifeguard had said, tossing her night-black curtain of hair back and smiling. A tiny part of him wilting Simon turned his attention to Jace and Clary.

"This is stupid" Jace was protesting. Clary was patient "W can leave if you promise we'll come to practise tomorrow"

"Fine. Let's go"

Upon hearing this, Alec grabbed Simon by the shoulder, raw panic in his eyes." What time does zumba or whatever end?"

"Six"

Simultaneously they checked the clock. It was now six-eighteen, consequently Alec sighed with relief. As Clary and Jace stepped out the water with Isabelle following, still conversing with the lifeguard Alec and Simon followed, a sense of comradliness entwining them, like they had realised their positions as losers of love.

Simon knocked nervously on Magnus' door. To his surprise it was open, hence he cautiously entered only to find Magnus feverishly leafing through a document.

"What do you want, daylighter?" he asked without looking up.

"Ummm….I need to talk to you about some stuff"

"Don't fall into the laqueus of getting on my nerves" said Magnus, with a hint of menace, whilst frantically checking through the papers.

"Laqueus? Isn't that the stuff in milk?" Simon inquired, sublimely unruffled.

"That's lactose" said Magnus "And you are being udderly sleep-inducing"

After a second, Simon comprehended Magnus' pun.

"Laqueus is an old English word meaning 'trap' or 'noose'" said Magnus, for no apparent reason, reclining on his desk chair. "Still the shadowhunter's toy?" he added, although without cruelty.

"I suppose. Look, can I sit down?"

"No. Sitting down largely implies that you are staying when in reality I have no intention of tolerating your all-too-aggravating presence in my apartment"

Simon contented himself with awkwardly propping himself up against the counter.

"So, Izzy mentioned you weren't helping with the battle efforts. I think that's a little harsh. Jonathon is a diabolical psychopath who would love to have your head. Well, not really I don't think he goes for heads; it's more like he has a quotidian of general destruction. At any rate he's not out to make the world into a giant Toys R Us. Although that would be cool"

Magnus was now looking up, wearing an expression of extreme incredulity. "Did someone put a babbling rune on you when you were younger?" He gave Simon an almost clinically appraising glance "Do you have a sensitive place on your skin? A bizarre tattoo?"

"Nope- I guess I talk crap naturally" said Simon wryly.

"I'll say" said Magnus "To summarise, your friends have sent you to attempt to convert me"

"I owe my friends nothing" said Simon seriously "You're one of the good guys, Magnus. Unfortunately you're causing a lot of pain even if you don't mean to. Take Alec for instance. I don't know why you're not together because it's obvious you love each other"

Simon paused uneasily.

"Kindly leave" said Magnus "And don't forget to take one of my business cards and recommend me to a friend. Preferably one that's refreshingly silent"

Simon pocketed a business card and turned to leave. However, a rebellious spirit compelled him to one last sentence.

"Don't forget what I said"

Magnus took no heed: instead he reshuffled his notes.

**Jace**

Magnus yanked open the front door to find Jace waiting expectantly outside.

"Oh n-" he began but before he could finish Jace had weaved his way inside. Magnus slammed the front door viciously and proceeded to the living room where Jace was sprawled casually on the couch.

"The apartment looks different from the party" he commented.

"You've been here since then" snapped Magnus "To my immense chagrin"

"I remember the party best of all" continued Jace. He jumped up in favour of examining the new neo-gothic paintings Magnus had invested in.

"That was the party where Simon got changed into a rat" Jace touched a painted skeleton "Like I said, it was a great party"

Magnus forced down the urge to scream "What do you want?"

"To talk" said Jace mildly.

"Oh no you don't" spluttered Magnus "Get out!"

"Is that what you said to Alec?"

This question hit Magnus hard although he merely crossed his arms "That's none of your business, shadowhunter"

"Like many things, it has everything to do with me" said Jace, looking evenly at Magnus "Alec's your lover and like my brother. Clary's your friend and my girlfriend"

Silence reigned as Jace realised there was nothing else worth mentioning in his offhand relationship with Magnus.

"I concede we have connections, albeit broken ones. Now get out"

"I bet you miss Alec more than he misses you"

"That's not tr-" Magnus stopped as the depth of what he was communicating sunk in.

"Aha!" exclaimed Jace triumphantly "You admit then that you and Alec are broken up. On bad terms, probably"

"Yes" Magnus forfeited.

"Why?"

"He considered shortening my existence"

"Is that it?" Jace snorted derisively "Clary and I only broke up when I was possessed by the Mother Demon"

"Well, then I hope you win the Couple of the Year award" snapped Magnus, rattled.

"I'm sure they do reruns" said Jace kindly.

"You little-" Magnus hesitated to massage his forehead. "Doesn't your miniature Shadowhunter brain comprehend that _THERE WILL BE NO MORE ALEC AND ME_"

"I think" Jace said meditatively "That you're using Alec's mistake as an excuse to break it off before you get any lasting attachment. When he dies this way you won't be wracked with grief" Silence for a couple of seconds "But only in my miniature Shadowhunter brain, of course"

A flash of light blinded him and he found himself sitting on the doormat outside the block of apartments. No matter- Isabelle had a Plan B which was lucky because the battle wasn't in a day. The Shadowhunters were due to head towards the plains where Jonathon was veiled in….Jace checked the watch Clary had gotten him for his last birthday…three hours and forty seven seconds.

Three hours and forty seven seconds later Jace was standing on top of a cliff, his face contorted. The heavy odour of smoke was engulfing his senses. He had to inhale quickly: the climb required relentless effort.

He hadn't told anyone about his plan. He never did. However, he guessed that by now his friends and family by now had cultivated an uneasy sense that whenever they engaged in battle Jace would slip away on his own agenda, unpinnable as the rising smoke.

Finally Jace had reached the peak of the cliff. From here he could see the swarming multitudes, the fires, the destruction from a birds perspective. Not for the first time, that was for sure.

_Eleven years ago in the Fairchild manor_

Jace was staring intently at the widespread pages of a book his father had just given him. The old, leathery paper was emblazoned with a birds eye image, cross-sectioned into inked diagrams of fire, war and demons. Every one was graphically explicit with only one factor that snaked through them; in every one someone-mundane, Shadowhunter or Downworlder- was getting tortured. To Jace's profuse relief Valentine took the book and swiftly shut it.

"Do you know what this is?" Valentine stopped for a second before pressing on.

"This is destruction, Jonathon. Pure, undiluted destruction.

I know you think I work you hard. Perhaps other boys your age are indulged in more balming, mindless activities.

But you're no ordinary boy- no son of mine would be. Thus, you must be tutored in the art of what I just did. Do you see? I just _shut the book_. Essentially, I ended all on those pages. All that death. All that _sloppiness_.

Because once you've shut the book it can be blank to you, if you wish. You can overwrite certain events. Or you could simply dispose of it and start again"

With those ultimate words, he tossed the book into the roaring fire. Jace looked from the burning book into his father's eyes, experiencing tremors of awe and fear.

Jace blinked. It wasn't the time to be dredging up concealed memories. From his lofty height he could see Jonathon standing demurely on the periphery of the cliff, watching the battle impassively Lightly, Jace leapt over some boulders that separated them. Sensing this, Jonathon disappeared off the cliff-edge. _Damn it. _Jace scanned the horizon but saw only a figure darting away from the far side of Lake Lyn. He scaled down the cliff-face only to greet an even more insurmountable obstacle: the lake. Running around it would swallow too much of his precious time. _You could swim across_, Jace thought.

Except he couldn't. Jace had a moment of deflating self-honesty. He couldn't swim. What he did have was 'the angels own gift'. Worst case scenario he drowned. Luckily, Jace had stopped fearing death a long time ago. If Jonathon could get across the lake then so could he.

And so Jace soared. Up, over Lake Lyn, all the while feeling like he was finally pulling the book shut.

**Magnus**

The High Warlock of Brooklyn was not living the high life.

In frustration, Magnus hurled down his arduously made notes and sketches. They revolved around one theme: Jonathon. He really was quite fascinating, mulled Magnus. Blatantly evil. But fascinating nonetheless.

His notes smacked the desk and in response yesterday's coffee sloshed over the edge. _Exactly how I feel_ thought Magnus dolefully.

The mindless little clave were sending him increasingly irascible messages containing words like 'time of need' and 'requirements'. Bite me snarled Magnus mentally, He wasn't tied down by their stupid little whims anymore. He had no responsibilities.

Yawning, he slumped and took a pensive sip of the stale coffee. It wasn't that bad so without further ado he drained the mug and set it down heavily. The coffee had evoked a sizzling adrenaline thus e thoughts were leaping as he scooped up his notes . They were perfect, except for one thing: they recorded no weaknesses of Jonathons. His inventive killings had illuminated his strengths . Nevertheless, nestling in his array of extraordinary assets there was not one flaw. Even his looks were good, brooded Magnus, if you shipped that rakish, dastardly look. Personally, his ideal person was attractive in a comforting way, like…

Like that. He was looking at the photographs of Alec he'd pinned over his desk a while ago. Damn that Nephilim. The most frustrating thing was he could recall every second of the day it was taken.

**Paris**

Magnus poked Alec "Come on, sweetie, we've got a big day"

Alec peeled back one eyelid "What are we doing today?" he enquired groggily.

"It's the day we breathe some life into your wardrobe! _The day we get you a designer suit!_"

Alec retreated under the duvet,

"Come on, darling" coaxed Magnus, in the way one might wheedle an infant to step out from behind his mother's skirt "We're in Paris so it would be simply _criminal_ not to pick you up your own designer suit in the meantime!"

Alec mumbled incoherently from under the duvet: "But we live in New York and you haven't bullied me into getting me a suit there"

"I know, I know" sighed Magnus, being the very definition of a Poor, Troubled Soul "But as much as the sight of you fills me with irrepressible joy, the sight of your clothes merely fills me with irrepressible revulsion. We have to get you a designer suit while we're in this fashionable district!"

Alec's eye glared at Magnus "If I buy the bloody suit will you let me sleep?"

"Of course" soothed Magnus, simultaneously pulling Alec out of bed.

Half an hour later they were in the sort of shop that made Alec feel like his skin was crawling in demon venom. A dapper salesman materialised "Voulez-vous monsieurs?"

Magnus gestured at Alec "Il veut un costume, sil vous plait"

"Bien sur. Ici, monsieur"

Sensing that Alec didn't understand a word of the conversation, Magnus nudged Alec in the direction of the salesman. He thinks we're going to eat him, he thought tenderly, whereas I'm only looking for some redecoration.

Over the next hour Alec grew more and more stricken as he was thoroughly accessorised. Both the salesman and Magnus circled him contemplatively, conversing in words which sounded in Alecc's ears like French tortures.

"Il est tres jolie" the salesman commented, peering hungrily at the deep blue suit Alec was wearing.

"Oui, j'ai de la chance," replied Magnus, checking for any missing buttons "Vraiment, le costume c'est trop mignon pour les mots…"

"C'est le meilleur" agreed the salesman.

"I'll take it" said Magnus firmly. The salesman nodded approvingly and smiled; he had heard this phrase before from the tourists and liked what entailed.

"Hold still" said Magnus and took pictures of Alec with an old and rather ostentatious camera.

" Bonne idee!" said the salesman and bellowed in clipped French tones to a man at the other end of the shop "Gerard ! Il ya un monsieur chic!"

"Ben" remarked Gerard, walking over "C'est tres genial. Je veux une photo pour le magazine. Attendez, sil vous plait"

Alec found horror settling in. As well as Gerard, a few other photographers were clustered around, also sneakily snapping plus a collection of tourists. Magnus was merely making it worse; he was strutting around announcing "Il est mon copain!" which Alec supposed meant 'he's my boyfriend!' as he said it in the same tones he normally reserved for the declaration) and handing out emails and addresses from the photographers with promises to send copies of the photos.

Finally, they forced their way out of the flashing throng, Alec still in the 'cute' blue suit. As soon as they stepped out the shop Alec exhaled "_Finally_" he said "Maybe we co-"

That sentence was never finished on account of Magnus snatching his arm and pulling Alec after him. Pell-mell, they raced down the street of shocked French people.

"Where…are…we…going?" panted Alec.

"To get these printed!" Magnus shouted back joyfully.

"Do we have to?" asked Alec but there they were: standing outside the printing shop. Magnus strode in, dumped the camera on the table and spoke a torrent of French. The woman behind the desk glowered at him, washed her hands with mutinous slowness and extricated the film out the camera. She vanished for quite a while which was scarcely comprehended by Magnus as he eagerly dived for the prints. Poring over them, Magnus didn't notice as Alec led them into a little café.

"You look absolutely delicious in all of these" declared Magnus, windmilling his hands clutching the photos wildly. To Alec's reckoning he looked extremely uncomfortable and about as far from glamour as his customary apparel allowed him. He sighed: what was the point? When they got back to New York Magnus and Isabelle would probably spend hours scrutinising the lighting, the buttons and the cut of his collar. He genuinely couldn't understand his sister and his lover's fetish for fashion.

The day was still salvageable, however. The tang of coffee was echoed on their lips as they pressed together. They walked, fingers interlaced, and threw bits of baguette at the ducks (or Magnus did as he stubbornly refused to let any food or drink come near Alec's suit). Dinner was hilarious as Magnus spoon-fed Alec. At the end of the day not a spot or stain had come into contact with Alec's suit thus Magnus was happy. "What an utterly delectable day" he sighed blissfully, against Alec's hair that night.

"It wasn't too bad" acquiesced Alec dreamily.

That night centred around love as opposed to lust that night. All night they stayed resolutely in their positions; Alec's lips on Magnus' forehead, Magnus' arms wrapped around the small of Alec's back, sky blue suit hung limply in the wardrobe.

Magnus touched his temple as the minute details of that day returned with a vengeance. Even the little things seemed traitorously implanted in his memory; the taste of coffee, the exact shade of the suit, the positions adopted for slumber.

Then Alec went and screwed it all up, Magnus reminded himself bitterly. Bang on cue, Jace's words filtered back through his mind '_you're using Alec's mistake as an excuse_'.

Chairman Meow sloped into the room, leapt adeptly onto Magnus' desk and triumphantly spat out a ragged scrap of paper. A distressed-looking male was placed above the blaring title 'LA NOVEAU MODE!'

Wait. Magnus would know that uncomfortable look anywhere.

Alec had actually gotten into a style magazine! He had been airbrushed and his suit tinted which prevented Magnus from recognising him instantaneously. Reading the rest of the article hurriedly yielded the information that Alec's look was classed as 'modeste mais mignon' . He rummaged through Chairman Meow's basket which produced two or three different clippings featuring Alec. Alec was now officially a model. Should Magnus inform him of his elevated position in society? No-they were broken up on bad terms. Magnus smiled, savouring the look Alec would wear should he ever find out. Magnus would keep it his dirty little secret as Alec had kept him in that role when they first started going out. Besides, it would probably pay in the future to say he had dated a model…

Magnus awoke with a start. Instead of slumbering in his desk chair he was now regretfully awake in a room he didn't recognise. Jace was next to him, reading a Shadowhunter almanac with his feet propped up on a small table.

"How in heaven's name did I get here?" demanded Magnus furiously.

"I drugged your coffee" stated Jace in the same matter-of-fact tones one might employ to say 'I have a white bedspread'. He licked a finger and turned over a page of his book.

"Yeah," chipped in Isabelle "A battle is literally about to start. The first of many" she added grimly. Her face was pallid and completely devoid of makeup.

"So" ground out Magnus "Why aren't you out there, prattling your prattle?"

Isabelle regarded him evenly "We need you to enchant our armour"

"You must be joking!" cried Magnus "I couldn't enchant a jellybean at the moment! I haven't been sleeping due to an endless stream of brainless people traipsing through my apartment! "

"Simon been bothering you again?" said Jace sympathetically.

Magnus glared heatedly at him "Shadowhunters too" he bit out.

"Listen!" Isabelle yelled "The battle may not bother you as you've lived for nearly a century but _some people haven't and won't if you don't help_! Right now I can see the demon in you quite clearly. _Where's the humanity_?"

"If I may add, not being such an ass about Alec might help too" attached Jace.

Isabelle had her hands on her hips now. "We have seven minutes before my parents come in here, expecting a whole lot of strong armour. So get cracking!" She pointed imperiously at a dozen boxes of armour stacked against the wall. Magnus was secretly appalled but wisely refrained from comment. Instead his hands started to shimmer.

Magnus found himself being pushed up against a wall of a small alley by a demon, whose breath was pungent and putrid_. If I live through this_ Magnus thought grimly _I'll invent demon breath mints_.

Unsuccessfully, he tried to wrest the demon's grip off himself. Naturally, it didn't work. Today everything he did went wrong.

As the demon squeezed harder Magnus' ribs crunched horribly, causing scalding pain to pervade his senses. _I could die_ he thought, panicked. There were so many things he wanted to do; the demon breath mints being an example and telling Alexander that he had forgiven him. That he had forgiven him a long time ago, just didn't realise it at the time. He writhed even more, with less hope.

Meanwhile, the demon was gloating.

"Killing the High Warlock will raise my street credit!" he bragged, acrid little flecks peppering Magnus' face.

"Well, killing _you _will make me the king of street credit"

Magnus looked up, surprised, as did the demon. Alec was standing fiercely at the end of the alley , bow aloft and Magnus knew he had never seen anything so glorious in all of his existence. Even if Alec did look more taken aback by his jaunty comeback than Magnus and the demon combined.

The demon released Magnus and advanced towards Alec. Immediately, Magnus collapsed, powerless to do anything but watch as Alec attacked the demon.

Firstly, Alec fired a clutch of arrows into the demon and watched helplessly as they were expunged into the demon's spongey, luridly yellow flesh.

"Is that it?" taunted the demon and whacked Alec who flew into the brick wall Magnus had been forced against. Bloodied and bruised, he straightened up, in the process catching Magnus' eye for one electrifying second. They were back to watching each other across the room when they thought the other wasn't liking…Alec sprung onto the demon as inspiration struck and hooked it over the demons head and pulled. The demon's torso snapped off completely, kindliling a spray of foul liquid that drenched Alec. Magnus remembered how even the flecks of it had burned against his flesh…

"Dear God, no" he whispered as Alec plummeted to the ground. He leant over the dying Shadowhunter.

"Magnus" Alec slurred "Promise me that if we live through this we'll go on holiday again"

Magnus almost laughed "Anything you want, sweetie. I love you"

Alec's blue eyes crinkled "I know"

"And you are utterly, totally, 100% forgiven," Magnus continued desperately "All those trust issues were half my fault anyway"

"I know" said Alec serenely.

"Well, aren't we Mr Know-It-All" said Magnus before he could stop himself.

Alec laughed "Yep" he agreed before he closed his eyes and his breathing drew to a halt.

Chairman Meow rubbed himself against Magnus' hot pants to which Magnus didn't respond. He rarely responded nowadays. Ever since he had dropped Alec's body and his notes at the Lightwood's he had been dormant. He didn't sleep much: when he did it was riddled with snatches of Alec's departure.

_Is it worth it anymore_ thought Magnus, toying with the threads of his wrist bracelet. No more parties, no more glitz, just this, the monotony of What Could Have Been.

His doorbell rang. Magnus jumped- it had been a while since he had heard that.

"Who dares disturb the rest of the High Warlock of Brooklyn?" he boomed sonorously, although his voice was a little hoarse from misuse.

"I, Jace Lightwood. Ouch! That hurt, Izzie. And not quite as thrillingly, Isabelle Lightwood and Clary Fray"

Magnus allowed them in. Maybe they wanted more research or had an invitation for him to Alec's funeral. Either way, they company, albeit undistinguished, distinctly unglamourous company.

Jace strolled in, hand-in-hand with Clary and Isabelle bringing up the rear. The looked older, more ethereal, like war had reduced them into ghosts of themselves. Clary stepped forwards.

"Magnus, we want to thank you for the notes" she said sombrely "I think we've got Jonathon a little more nailed down now"

"I'll definitely get that bastard next time" broke in Jace savagely. He was sporting several cuts and was holding his left arm at a crooked angle. Catching Magnus' slightly inquisitive gaze he added "Jonathon's injuries are roughly the same"

"And so, we thought you should have this" Clary withdrew something from her large shopping bag she had with her. Something to Magnus that was old and new, borrowed and blue…

"Alec's suit" he breathed softly. Slowly, he reached out for the suit and felt something crunch in the pocket,

"Ooh, this is the best part" he distantly heard Clary say, as if she were underwater. He grabbed the piece of paper from the suit pocket. It had just one word on it:

LOBBY

"Don't steal anything" cautioned Magnus austerely and quickly dashed down to the lobby, leaving a smirking Jace and beaming Clary and Isabelle in his wake. _Could the stairs be any longer? _He internally complained. Finally he was at the lobby. Expensive chairs and bowls of fruit were arranged into a cordial infrastructure as usual. Sitting in one of them was a pale, dark-haired boy with brilliant blue eyes.

"Hello" said Alec.

**Everyone's Epilogue**

"Do you think they're alright?" asked Clary, blowing the steam off her hot chocolate. She was sitting opposite Simon (who was sitting next to Izzie and holding her hand under the table) and next to Jace in the reputedly best café in New York.

"Oh, I'm sure they're undergoing thorough negotiations" said Isabelle, thinking nothing of the sort. She paused and focused on something. "Oh look, a fire message!"


End file.
